The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1887-11-17

at Ills poalu, 70 snare your place III his
l!eartl" AZ Is
And glancing fearfully around her.
lest she should be observed, she kissed
the photograph once. twice, three times,
and placed it tenderly in her bosom.
When She came back to tho house
she was quieter and more silent than
usual, but she did not offer to give back
the photograph to her husband.
Was she jealous of il still?
And Julian NIorny went quietly. on
with his Mudent labors the labors In
which his first wifc had shared SO intel
ligently anu helpfully.
He had. loved his beautiful lGvange-
line SO truly and passionately, she had
been SO entirely Il part OF his existence,
That when she died it seemed impossible
that he could ever place another woman
IN the empty niche Of her being.
But as time dullel the first sharp
edges Of ms sorrow, and pretty Harry
Tinton's winning graces stole into his
heart, he began to realize that he was
not yet an old man nor hermit.
He looked at Eyangeline's picture.
"She would hayo bid me bo happy, -
he said. ''She would have told me that
it was no disloyalty TO cheer the dark
ness Of my life with q second love-"
So he married the smiling young
beauty and the only grief that cankered
his heart was Iarry's insane, unreason-
able jealousy OF her dead rivals men,
ory.
Julian was no expert in reading the
liieroglyphics Of q woman's heartl
"IIarry, he would say, with u panied
expression upon his face, elf you loved
me, you would not talk in this way.''
"lt is because | do love you that ]
cannot help talking in this way" she
demonstrated, and then her tender,
coaXing little articles would be re-
doubled.
eff you would only forget her,,
pleaded Harry you would only tell
me that am past ana present both 10
YOU"
But he smiled and shook his head.
Sweetheart" he would say, ''you
arc the sunshine OF my present. With
my past no living touch can meddle
Is not that enough?o
"Nol" Harry cried, cit is not
enough!'
And after she had taken triumphant
possession Of the picture, u new shadow
Seemed udarken sila,tlu.- nIa-. his fore
head.
He was as tender as ever to. the child
wife, whose presence lent such fascina-
tion to his home. lie did not ask for
the return Of the photograph, but he
felt that there was something missing
at his side.
He had declared that he could re-
member Isyange!Wq without the pic
tnle, and yet hG&si, lI5El with an unut-
her face. SofyY, '
He resolutelSye .arded himself from
sitting in jndgliieYt on the lovely little
sprito who loved him with such way
ward, unreasonable affection; and vet
he could not but feel that Harry had
been cruelty unjiist to Evangelinc.
So he left off thinking about it at I'LL,
and applied himself stcadfastly to the
studies which had always formed the
main occupation of hIa life.
"Julianl"
1t was a stormy night-mid January
with the snow-tlakes whirling wildly
through the darkness, and tumultous
wind bowling in the tree-tops.
lie had been writing long and stead
lily, and had leaned back in his chair.
Tor moments rest Of hand and brain,
when Harry came in, attired in the
black velvet dress which he had given
her, and wearing at her round, white
throat little cross Of diamonds.
The husbands serious face brighten
ed at the fair vision.
"Why, my petI' he exclaimed, CAP
turing the hand which was laid lightly
on his shoulder; "what is the meaning
Of this extraordinary brilliance of cos
tnme2 Is there to be a party, or q cere
monious dlnner?'
Neither" Harry answered. "But
it is my fete day. DO you remember
what anniversary this is, Julian? Ten
years ago, to-day, you were married to
Evangeline Sedleyn
81 remember il, Harry,'' lie said.
sadly.
"Comel''
She took his hand with imperious
tenderness, and led him to tho little
drawing-room, where hot-house flowers
were arranged in all the vases, and wax
candles burned.
Above the mantle hung a crayon pic
ture of his dead wife, smiling at him
like living face.
"Evangeline!" he cried ''Hor very
faccl Oh, Harry, where did you get
it?''
"It is my anniversary gift to you,
Julian" she said. IL had it taken
from your little photograph. Is it not
sweet2 Is it not holy in its expires
sion2'
"How can l thank you for it?" he
said, in broken accents.
"But you must let me keep tile pho
tograph," !" pleaded Harry, with tears in
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